


A Belly-full of Fireworks and Hot Dogs

by TeamGwenee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fire Works Night Fic, First Meeting, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 17:47:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21324175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: “So some centuries ago Queen Cersei torched the Sept of Baelor to get rid of her political enemies; which included her daughter in law, pushing her son who was also her nephew to suicide, and we celebrate the event with barbecues and fireworks?”“We’re Westerosi, any excuse for a piss-up.”
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 14
Kudos: 97





	A Belly-full of Fireworks and Hot Dogs

“So some centuries ago Queen Cersei torched the Sept of Baelor to get rid of her political enemies; which included her daughter in law, pushing her son who was also her nephew to suicide, and we celebrate the event with barbecues and fireworks?”

“We’re Westerosi, any excuse for a piss-up,” Tyrion cheered.

“As though you need an excuse,” Jaime grumbled, clapping his hands together for warmth, his breath misty in the frigid air.

_So. Fucking. Cold._

The peak of Visenya’s Hill was bustling with bulky figures in padded coats and poof ball hats, their faces lit from the violent mix of colours pluming and crackling in the sky. Jaime watched the crowds, beer in one hand and hot dog (one from the stall with _good_ sausages) in the other.

“Coming through fart face!”

_Fuck bugger shit_

“Someone should watch those bleeding kids,” Jaime grumbled as a pack of Starklings came hurtling past, brandishing sparklers.

“Watch those sparklers kids,” a deep yet feminine voice cried out from the darkness.

“Someone like her,” Jaime said, twisting around and spotting the source.

_Mother Maiden Crone fuck!_

The on-duty fire fighter, a tall, muscular blonde stood several feet back. Her arms were crossed firmly over her chest, her remarkably blue eyes fixed on the crowds. Her nose was crooked, and freckles dotted her skin like specks of dirt. But then she fixed her eyes on the sky to watch the fireworks and in them every flame was reflected and suddenly there weren’t just fireworks in the sky but in Jaime’s gut.

“I’m going for a walk,” Jaime announced. “Give me your hot dog.”

“Hey!”

Jaime snatched the hot dog in one fluid movement, striding towards the fire fighter with a confidence that faltered with each step. Jaime’s mouth went dry as he scrambled for a way to address the blue eyed giant. A way of offering the stolen hot dog in a way that was string free, but also making it apparent that if she wanted the hot dog strings attached, then he was a fucking puppet. Something charming, and witty, but friendly and natural.

“Excuse me Wench, do you want to eat my sausage?”

_Nailed it! _

His blonde giantess’s eyes widened. “Wench?” she spluttered.

_Apart from that bit._

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s just, I’m a professor of the history of the Long Night and KLU and the term ‘Wench’ comes up a lot and the first time somebody called my sister ‘Madam’ she bashed her Mercedes in with a golf club and threw a child’s ice cream into a coy pond so Wench just seemed a lot safer, for some reason.”

The Wench blinked at the quick-fire explanation. “Okay…” she said doubtfully.

_Phew._

Jaime held out the hot dog. “I thought you could do with a snack.” The Wench looked at the proffered snack doubtfully, but clearly hunger won over Jaime’s evident insanity and she took it.

“Thanks,” she mumbled. “I haven’t had a chance to eat yet.” She took a bite, a smile of bliss spreading across her lips. A smidge of ketchup was smeared at the corner of her mouth, and her pink tongue whipped out and licked it away.

_Mother have mercy!_

“Did you say you’re a professor of the Long Night?” she asked as she awkwardly swallowed down a bite. “What do you think of all this, celebrating the destruction of an entire city?”

“Well,” Jaime said, “Contemporary sources trace the tradition to the annual lighting of candles in remembrance of those who had died, and as a prayer that the world built in the ashes would prove to be a fairer one. And then somewhere along the way, we started getting pissed and having barbecues, which considering people were burnt to _death, _seems in poor taste.”

“So do you think we should take the tradition back to its roots?” Brienne asked curiously. “Back to prayer and candles?”

“Fuck no!” Jaime swore. “I love barbecues. You?”

Brienne pointed at her uniform. “I, personally, would like to see the entire holiday crumble. It would make my life so much easier. I am in for a long, tedious night, and I probably won’t be getting to the barbecue any time soon because this is the best spot to keep watch.”

“Well then, personal barbecue fetcher at you service!” Jaime declared gallantly. “I cannot allow our brave fire fighter to spend the night going hungry.”

_And with any hope, by the end of the night we will be making fireworks of their own._


End file.
